


trying my best

by peachsneakers



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Has Panic Attacks, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Needs a Hug, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Pines, As are Janus and Remus, Deceit | Janus Sanders' Name Reveal, Ducking Out, Eating Disorders, Eventual DRLAMP - Freeform, Food, Hurt/Comfort, Intrusive Thoughts, It happens sooner than you think, Logan Roman and Patton are in a relationship at first, M/M, Morality | Patton Sanders Tries, Multi, Mutual Pining, Panic Attacks, Profanity, Roman is slightly unsympathetic in the beginning, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, there's so much pining in this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:33:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 12,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27365074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachsneakers/pseuds/peachsneakers
Summary: Virgil just wants to be accepted.But after seeing Logan, Roman, and Patton's relationship, he's not sure that's enough to tide him over anymore.(Never mind how he feels about Janus and Remus. That's a whole other kettle of fish that he's not willing to look into any time soon. Or is he?)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Dark Creativity | Remus/Deceit/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, DRLAMP, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, LAMP - Relationship
Comments: 216
Kudos: 243





	1. i'm meaner than my demons

**Author's Note:**

> this is my 2020 nano :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from halsey "control"

_And all the kids cried out  
Please stop, you're scaring me  
I can't help this awful energy  
Goddamn right, you should be scared of me  
Who is in control?_

"Whatever you say, Princey," Virgil says, giving the creative side a two-fingered salute as he sinks out. His ears buzz with static as he crumbles against his bedroom door, shaking with adrenaline. He isn't sure why Roman's words have gotten to them so much today. It isn't like any of them are _new_. He's always thought Virgil was a pimple on Thomas's ass. It's just-

Well, Virgil thought maybe he was doing _better_. He'd been working really hard, listening to the others, taking Logan's and Patton's advice (though he doubted they were aware they were giving it). Keeping his own anxiety away from Thomas as best as he could.

Apparently, he thought wrong. He scowls, pushing away from the door and aiming for his bed. All he wants right now are his bed and his headphones, to drown out the shitty day and the equally shitty sounds of the light sides having a perfectly fine time without him. Again.

_What did you expect?_ He berates himself, harsh, as he rummages around for his headphones. _Did you think they'd want to play happy families? With someone like you? Don't make me laugh. You knew what you were getting into when you left._

He did. He just didn't realize it would _hurt_ so damn much.

_Remus and Janus would never treat you this way,_ his mind whispers. He angrily shoves that thought away. It doesn't _matter_ how the others would treat him. It's a moot point now. He _left_ and he can _never_ go back, no matter how much he might secretly wish it sometimes. The others made _that_ abundantly clear. And the worst part is, he can't even blame them! Hell, he'd probably do the same thing in their shoes.

Headphones acquired, Virgil flops back against his pillows and closes his eyes. The events of the latest video play back against his eyelids like a tape reel of Anxiety's Shittiest Moments (Part Billion). He groans, dragging a hand across his face. _Great_.

His thoughts turn to the razor blade safely hidden away in his dresser. He doesn't often use it, but it's been happening more and more lately. When he lived with the others, he could turn to Janus for comfort and soothing little lies, or to Remus for a chaotic distraction. Now there's nothing to distract him from the thoughts. It's probably what he deserves, after how poorly he treated them. He didn't _mean_ to, but intent doesn't count for much, not when you see tears welling in _Remus's_ eyes, and the hurt drowning in Janus's mismatched stare.  
_Fuck_. Virgil swallows hard, the lump in his throat enormous and aching. His grief is too sharp for tears, but they prick his eyes anyway, making them burn.

A knock sounds at the door and he groans. It's probably Patton again, trying to invite him for dinner or something. He never accepts the invitation, but it doesn't stop Patton from offering it. Virgil isn't sure how he feels about that. Nevertheless, a tentative smile flirts with his features as he pads his way to the door, flinging it open. His greeting dies on his tongue when Roman fills the space instead. He scowls, closing the door until only a crack shows. Roman doesn't deserve to see the inside of his room.

"What do you want, Princey?" He demands. Roman frowns, like he has the audacity to be offended.

"Thomas is anxious," Roman states. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Virgil sneers. "I'm not deliberately trying to make him more anxious, you know."

"I don't believe you," Roman says, frowning harder. "Stop it. Thomas doesn't deserve that."

"What the fuck do you expect me to do?" Virgil asks, frustrated. His voice is brittle. "Stop existing?"

There's a pregnant pause. Roman's mouth opens and closes a few times.

"Just stop it," he finally says, turning and stomping away.

Just in time, because Virgil can feel the panic attack beckoning, caressing his spine with slippery fingers of dread. He nearly slams the door shut, locking it and stumbling back to his bed as fast as he dares. His breathing comes in great, whooping gasps and he feels cold and hot all over, in turns. His heartbeat trebles, thumping against his breastbone. _No, no, no_ \- He scarcely has the presence of mind to slam a mental wall up, blocking his panic attack from Thomas. While Thomas might get some more of his residual anxiety, he shouldn't get Virgil's panic attack. Therefore, Roman won't have even more ammunition to bitch at him with.

In theory, anyway. In practice, Virgil is huddled on his bed, fingernails digging into his arms, his hoodie discarded to one side. It hurts, but he almost relishes the hurt, desperately clinging to the bright pinpoints of pain as an anchor. He misses Janus and Remus again, more fiercely than ever, the ache stealing the breath from his lungs. He misses the soft, welcome pressure of Janus's arms, wrapped around him. Misses the low, thoughtful tone that Remus takes when he's like this, meandering from topic to topic in Virgil's ear, dragging him back to the present. Misses the countdown that Janus would always initiate, reminding him to count his breathing. _Four, seven, eight._ It's not the same when he does it for himself, he can scarcely keep the count.

Like now. His breath stutters, his chest squeezing tight. His heart _hurts_ and if it wasn't for the fact that he's just a side, Virgil would wonder if he was having some kind of heart attack. His vision darkens at the edges, speckling his eyes with static. His brain yammers inanities at him, sprinkling in Princey's insults for an extra stab at the wound. _We were better off without you!_

_What the fuck do you expect me to do, stop existing?_

_He didn't say 'no,'_ Virgil's brain reminds him, exquisitely painful.

_He didn't say 'yes,'_ Virgil tries to argue, but it's so hard when his head feels like it's about to explode and he can't _breathe_ , why can't he breathe, why-

He doesn't know how long he sits there, heart beating like a terrified rabbit's. He knows it's dark out now. The light that floats through his window is bone white, the color of the moon. If Patton ever knocked on his door to inquire about his dinner plans, he didn't hear it. He feels a brief stab of guilt for that. Patton's always been kind to him. He doesn't deserve that.

Then again, he also doesn't deserve to have Anxiety around in the first place, a literal doom and gloom cloud, here to rain on everybody's parade.

He always aimed to _protect_ Thomas. That's all he's ever tried to do. But as he sits there, drenched in sweat and lightheaded, he wonders if he's ever once managed to accomplish that.

He isn't sure if he even has an answer.


	2. ducking out (quack)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from au/ra "panic room"

_My phone has no signal  
It's making my skin crawl  
The silence is so loud  
The lights spark and flicker  
With monsters much bigger  
Than I can control now_

Virgil's exhausted, but he can't sleep.

_Figures_ , he thinks, disgusted at himself. His eyes are still puffy from his panic attack, and his hands shake when he holds them up. He's a mess. But Roman never came back to yell at him some more, so maybe he did something right. _Maybe_ , his mind whispers. _Or maybe he's just given up on you ever working together with the rest of them. Maybe he knows you're just bad news and doesn't want to waste the effort._

The thought stings. Hasn't he tried? He's focused on his breathing when he notices it begin to speed up. He's quieted down, stopped offering his opinion when he knows with certainty it's only fueled by his own nature. He tries to tell them when their ideas are _good_. Maybe he has tried. But now, Virgil doubts that he's tried _enough_. He tried to be present, tried to work _with_ them, when the obvious solution was staring him in the face the whole time. They didn't want him to be more _easy-going_. They wanted him _gone_. He should have begged off the few times they claimed to _want_ his input. Should have stopped showing up where he clearly isn't wanted.

Should have, should have, should have. The what if's burn, but what can he do about it now?

_Well, you can stop bothering them, that's for sure._ The worst thing is, he doesn't think any of them will even notice. Oh, maybe Patton will, but the other two? While he likes to pretend that he's reached some kind of accord with Logan after the debate, he knows that's not true. He just let Logan know that sometimes, he can be shut up. Net gain for the others, of course, but for him? Not so much.

And Roman _hates_ him. Hates him more than Virgil can even comprehend. Although maybe he understands it a little more. Roman was just too nice to confirm the _truth_ last night. That yes, he wishes Virgil would stop existing. That Virgil shouldn't even be around at all, never should have been formed as a proper side. Thomas doesn't _need_ Anxiety, not like this. Thomas doesn't need _him_ , and the thought hurts.

_You can duck out._ Virgil freezes, goosebumps crawling up both arms. He snatches up his hoodie, stuffing it on and ignoring the brief sting of his scratches.

"I can't duck out," he whispers. "I...Thomas-"

_Thomas doesn't need you_ , his mind continues, pitiless. _You know that. Hell, they all know that. Even Patton. He's just too kind to say it to your face. You shouldn't be here. You're a blight. A parasite. Maybe-_ maybe _\- you were a little tolerable when you were with the others. Outta sight, outta mind, right? But you had to go and be stupid. You had to come over here. You think they want you_ here _? That anyone wants you here? Thomas can't stand you. He's just too nice to outright tell you to fuck off. If_ Thomas _doesn't want you here, how selfish do you have to be to stay?_

Virgil swallows hard, his bottom lip trembling. He- he hadn't thought of it like that. But... It's true, isn't it? It's true. He's been selfish and deluded and the time is long past for him to stop deluding himself.

The time has come for him to duck out.

He looks around at the draped shadows of his room, committing each thing to memory. It won't exist soon, not really, so best remember it now. Maybe he'll get a vague impression of it when he's no longer a real side, just an impulse in the subconscious. That's all he should have been in the first place. Just a subconscious wisp of thought. Even Janus has more right to exist than he does. Thomas _needs_ the ability to lie. But he doesn't need _Virgil_ and the realization is more painful than he ever thought it could be.

Chewing his bottom lip, Virgil stiffens his resolve. This is what's best for Thomas.

But first-

He doesn't even realize where he's going at first. Then he arrives at the door leading downward, where the others live, and he knows. He turns the doorknob as quietly as he can, slipping through the narrow opening like a shadow. Crooked stairs spiral downward and it's memory that guides him down without missing a step or making it creak. The TV is on downstairs, but when he squints around, he can't see anybody. Remus must have left the TV on again and forgotten to turn it off. Janus must already be asleep. If he were awake, he would turn it off.

Tears prick Virgil's eyes, making them burn. He just- He wants to see them and yet he's so painfully aware that he doesn't deserve to. He had his chance down here and he blew it, all for nothing. Maybe if he had stayed down here, he wouldn't have to duck out now.

But no, that's selfish. That's just one more reason he should do it, to be honest. Perhaps he would have been able to disguise his intentions longer down here, but sooner or later, his true pitiful nature would shine through. Even Janus would probably tell him that it was necessary to duck out. To say bye bye. Sayonara, Virgil. Thomas doesn't need you. More to the point- You're _bad_ for Thomas. You always have been. You're a _disorder_.

_You're a disorder_ , Virgil repeats to himself, and swallows hard. He doesn't like to think about it that way. Doesn't want to think about it that way. But it's true, isn't it? If Thomas went to a doctor, he would probably be diagnosed with an anxiety disorder, and it would all be because of Virgil. You didn't see people being diagnosed with too much creativity, or a surplus of logic, now did you. No, you only got diagnosed with anxiety. Just like him.

Lost in thought, Virgil only escapes scrutiny by virtue of the shadows he stands cloaked in, as Janus wearily enters the living room, hunting for the remote and snapping off the TV. The sudden lack of sound and light startles Virgil, and he winces when Janus's head darts up, eyes searching the darkness.

But either he doesn't see him, or doesn't care to, as he turns away, padding back down the hallway toward his room. Virgil's shoulders slump. Well. This is it.

He trudges back up the stairs, slipping through into the light side with a pang. Nobody's up here. He's tempted to do one last rummage in the fridge, but no. Best not to end things on a sour note.

Virgil enters his room slowly, closing and locking his door with a quiet click, and lying down on his bed. He takes a deep breath, letting it out in a gust of air.

"This is it," he whispers.

Virgil ducks out.


	3. the grim adventures of janus and remus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from shinedown "monsters"

_Leave a light on if you're able  
'Cause we both know you're unstable  
Call a doctor, say a prayer  
Choose a god you think is fair  
'Cause my monsters are real_

Something is wrong.

It eats at him, worse than Remus's latest attempt at playing with sulfuric acid, or the howling ache in the center of his stomach that always magnifies when he thinks of Virgil's departure. He's pretty sure that it has nothing to do with Remus- even from here, he can hear Remus's gusty breaths as he sleeps.

So it must have something to do with the others. Janus frowns. Who? He can't see Patton having a problem, not the way it feels. It feels enormous, like something fundamental has just shaken the mind palace to its core, cracking it in two. He doesn't care enough about Roman for him to affect Janus this badly.

Logan? He's always thought Logic was repressing some hefty complaints. But no, he doesn't think it's the tie-wielding side, either.

That leaves Virgil and Janus doesn't want to think about that. Doesn't want to think about the hurt filling Virgil's eyes when he left for the final time, doesn't want to think about how he drove him away, and for what? What point could he possibly have possessed? He was hurt, and he lashed out, but that's no excuse.

_It's Virgil,_ Janus realizes with sudden, sickening clarity. It's taken painful long minutes to realize what he should have noticed all along.

He can't feel Anxiety. He can't feel _Virgil_ and his own fear spikes off the charts as he jack knifes out of bed, scrambling into his clothes, and pounding on Remus's door. It takes longer than he would have liked for the creative side to open the door. Not for the first time, the other side is in the buff, lounging against the door frame.

"Double D!" Remus greets him with a yawn. "What's up?"

"It's Virgil," Janus says bluntly. Remus's eyes widen and he snaps his fingers, clothing himself in an instant. 

"What's wrong?" Remus asks, his voice surprisingly serious.

"I don't know, that's the problem," Janus says in frustration. "But I have a feeling-"

"Tell me," Remus insists, taking one of Janus's gloved hands and stroking his fingers across Janus's knuckles. It's only then that Janus realizes that he's shaking.

"I think he ducked out," Janus whispers. Remus pales.

"Are you sure, Double D?" Remus asks, his own voice hushed. Janus nods, shaking harder.

"Come on, then," Remus says, dragging Janus toward the stairs. "Let's try to get in the emo's room."

"But the others," Janus protests, half-hearted. Remus gives him a scornful look, bright green eyes glittering.

"The others can go fuck themselves," Remus says. "I have no doubt if Virgey ducked out, it's because of them. They're worth dog shit. Lower than dog shit. Fuck them. Especially my rotten brother."

"Roman?" Janus asks, surprised. "Why do you say that?"

"He thinks I don't hear him," Remus says lowly. His mouth twists in a sneer. "I hear every insult he flings Virgey's way. Every sneer, every snarl, every groan. Every bad word. Last night-" Remus cuts himself off. Regret suddenly fills his eyes. "I should have known. I should know better! I should-"

"Why?" Janus persists. "Remus? What's wrong?"

"I heard Roman and what he said," Remus answers. "Or rather, what he didn't say."

"What didn't he say?"

"Virgil asked if he should just stop existing," Remus says bitterly. "And my dear, sweet brother didn't say a fucking word."

White hot anger flares to life in Janus's chest, flickering brilliant blue at the edges. He has to bite his own lip hard to avoid storming past Remus, finding Roman, and landing a punch in the middle of that perfectly chiseled, not a hair out of place, imminently punchable face.

"Well, now I'm even more positive," Janus finally manages to say in a croak. "He's ducked out."

They arrive. Virgil's door is painted black and purple, 'Anxiety' in jagged letters in the middle of the door. That's right, Janus recalls. He hasn't yet told the others his name. At this rate, he might not be around to do it. Cold fear squirms in Janus's stomach as he tries the doorknob.

Locked.

He jiggles it harder, as if that will force it to open. Nothing.

"Remus," he hisses. "Try rising up in his room." Remus squints his eyes in concentration, before giving up and shrugging.

"No go," Remus says. "It's like- it's almost like his room's not even there."

"Fuck," Janus whispers. "This is just peachy. The only one who can get through to him now is Thomas, and from all I've seen, Thomas is more likely to cheer that Anxiety is gone than actually help him." His vision blurs and he realizes that he's crying.

"Sssh," Remus murmurs, enfolding Janus in his arms. "We'll figure something out, Double D. I promise."

"I don't know what to do," Janus admits, sniffing inelegantly. "I don't- He's not answering-" He collapses against the wall, taking Remus with him.

"Thomas can't live without Anxiety," Janus says, more sure of that than his own name. "He needs him, Remus."

"I know," Remus says, stroking his hair back. "I know."

"What are you two doing up here?" A voice demands.


	4. simply illogical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from au/ra "panic room"

_Welcome to the panic room_   
_Where all your darkest fears are gonna come for you_   
_Welcome to the panic room_   
_You'll know I wasn't joking when you see them, too_

It's Logan.

So many thoughts run through Remus's mind, he's momentarily struck silent. Logan stands there in a ridiculous-looking get-up of blue plaid dressing gown and star-patterned pajama pants. His hair is mussed and his glasses are crooked.

"Where's your tie?" He blurts out, laughter bubbling free. Logan huffs and frowns, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"It is three in the morning," Logan says, clearly disapproving. "You two don't come up here. Why are you here now? Has Anxiety done something?"

"Oh, you could say that, all right," Remus says, his words coming too fast, squeezing past his lips like rotten toothpaste from a cracked tube. "You could _definitely_ say that."

"What?" Logan asks, looking between Remus and Janus. "You sound like it's a joke, Remus, but you're crying, Deceit."

"Am not," Janus denies, his voice hoarse. "I-"

"Get to the point," Logan says, obviously frustrated.

"Anxiety ducked out," Remus blurts out. Logan stops dead, his eyes widening behind his glasses.

"Please tell me that's a joke," Logan whispers. Remus shakes his head so hard his neck hurts.

"Not a joke," he says. It hurts to say the words.

"Explain," Logan demands.

"I woke up because something felt wrong," Janus says. "And then-" He swallows hard, licking his lips with a delicately forked tongue. Remus can tell Logan's noticed it, but the logical side doesn't ask anything about it.

"We knew it was Anxiety," Remus chimes in. "Not that I'm surprised after my _brother_ got involved," he adds, trailing off. Logan's gaze sharpens.

"What does that mean?" Logan asks. "What about Roman?"

"Oh, nothing," Remus says, saccharine sweet. "I'm sure it doesn't mean _anything_ for Ro Ro not to say anything when Anxiety asked if he would rather Anxiety just stopped existing. I'm sure that didn't affect him at _all_."

"Roman did what?" Logan asks, pupils blown wide in shock.

"You heard me," Remus says. He begins to pace in front of Virgil's door, wearing a groove in the carpet. "My _brother_ doesn't have to pretend he _likes_ Anxiety, I know he doesn't, it would be such a _strain_ on his acting skills, but he could have _lied_ for two seconds."

"That-" Logan shakes his head, dazed. "How do you know, Remus?"

"He's my brother," Remus states. "I know what he says. We're- we're connected, whether he wants to admit it or not." He smiles, thin and sharp. "Anxiety's left the building and Thomas is _fucked_."

"Thomas needs Anxiety," Logan says. "Without his fight or flight reflex, he's-"

"Fucked," Remus repeats, nearly sing-song.

"Thomas needs to know," Logan says. He chews his bottom lip, a gesture that Remus has never seen him make. "We need to tell him. I need to tell him."

"You aren't leaving us out," Janus says, his voice wavering. "You-"

"Thomas doesn't know about you," Logan says. "I'm not sure-"

"If it were up to you three, Thomas would never know," Janus hisses. "We deserve to be seen and heard, too. Thomas deserves that. Or do you forget that I'm more than deceit? Anxiety has ducked out. He needs me more than ever right now, unless you want him to walk out in front of a car in the morning, just to see what it feels like."

Logan raises his hands defensively.

"Of course I don't want that," he says. "But you have to admit, it's...a lot. Thomas is only now coming to terms with Anxiety, never mind you and-" His eyes flick Remus's direction. Remus wonders what it would be like to take a spoon and flip them out like pancake orbs. He has to pinch the back of his hand viciously to stop himself.

"If I come, Remus comes," Janus says firmly. "He's just as important to Thomas's well-being as I am."

"Are you sure about that?" Logan asks, blunt as ever. "I am not denying that Remus is important, but I'm unsure that you can really compare the two of you."

"Is Roman important?" Janus shoots back. Logan opens and closes his mouth, but doesn't say anything.

"Exactly," Janus says. "Thomas deserves to know."

"You've never thought that before," Logan says, contemplative.

"Anxiety's never ducked out before," Janus snaps. Remus can tell how stressed he is from the stiff slant of his shoulders, the way his snake eye sparks yellow. He looks about two seconds away from unleashing his extra arms, and Remus both hopes he does and hopes he doesn't. He likes Janus's extra arms, but he has a feeling Logan doesn't. And Logan's the important one right now. Logan's the one they have to convince.

"Do you care about Anxiety?" Remus blurts out. Logan stares at him, surprised.

"I know that he is important for Thomas's mental health," Logan says. Remus shakes his head, impatient.

"That isn't what I asked," he says. "Do you care about Anxiety?"

"...Yes," Logan says slowly. "I do."

"Well then," Remus says. "So do we."

"Then let's plan what to do," Logan says firmly, waving a hand down the hallway, toward the stairs. "Shall we?"


	5. you have no anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from mother mother "it's alright"

_I'm not okay_   
_I got a baseball bat beside my bed_   
_The fight I fought inside my head_   
_The fight I fought behind my meds_   
_I'm lonely, lost in pain_

Janus's stomach swarms with butterflies the next morning. He and Remus have agreed that they will let Logan pull them up to explain the issue. With Logic's backing, he has hope that the other two will listen. Or, well, at the very least, Patton might listen. Patton knows how important Janus's function is, and by extension, he hopes that the moral side also understands how important Virgil is.

He doesn't really have hope for Roman. He wants to, but he remembers too clearly what Remus said last night. Roman doesn't even care if Anxiety exists or not. He didn't realize their animosity had reached such heights. He hasn't paid enough attention to what's going on, and it burns. He should have been paying attention. He should have looked past the hurt still swirling in his head and heart to see what Virgil was going through.

And he should have made it abundantly clear to Virgil that he was welcome to return at any time. Maybe if he had done that, Virgil wouldn't have ducked out.

_Or maybe he still would have_ , his mind says, scathing. _Stop wallowing in your mistakes and focus on the present. You can't help past Virgil, but maybe, just maybe, there's still a chance you can help him now._

He was right. Janus swallows hard. His hands are sweaty in their gloves. Beside him, Remus is unnaturally silent, bouncing on his tiptoes. He already had to get Remus to put away his morningstar. As tempting as it would be to toss the damn thing at Roman's head, that won't help anything.

"You have no anxiety," Logan says firmly, echoing down to them. Even without looking at Thomas in the real world, Janus knows that's true. The man's been acting like a bumbling couch potato all day. He has no more sense of danger than a toddler.

"And you need to meet someone," Logan continues. Remus nudges Janus hard. That's their cue.

"Two someones, in fact," Logan says. Janus feels his hat nearly tugged off his head and he almost falls to the floor as Logan summons him and Remus. His face grows warm.

"What are they doing here?!" Roman cries indignantly. Thomas just stares at them curiously and waves.

"Hi, sides I don't know about!" Thomas says cheerfully. "Who are you?"

"Remus," Remus says, making an elegant bow. Janus knows that he only did so to piss off his brother. From the red climbing up Roman's face, Janus would say that he has succeeded.

Janus hesitates. He hates letting the others know his name. It's private and personal and above all, secret. But if he wants Thomas to have a snowball's chance in hell of believing him- of trusting him- then the only thing he can think to do is-

He peels off one glove, holding his hand in the air. Across from him, Patton's eyes widen in surprise. He knows Deceit. He knows what that means. With his glove off, Janus can only tell the truth.

"My name is Janus," Janus says, like peeling a band-aid from a wound. Patton gives him a look, one that says he understands the significance of what Janus just said.

Roman bursts out laughing.

"Janice?" He repeats, giving the name the wrong inflection on purpose. "What are you, a middle school librarian?"

"Thank god you don't have a mustache, Roman," Janus says, before he knows what he's saying. "Otherwise, how would I know which twin was which?"

Roman pales, then flushes red hot, and Janus feels a vicious little stab of satisfaction at the hurt in Roman's eyes. He worded it carefully enough that Thomas hasn't caught on, but he knows that Roman does.

"Damn, Jan," Remus whispers hoarsely into his ear. "That was brutal."

Janus swallows.

"I'm sorry," he whispers back. "I shouldn't have-"

"Oh well," Remus says, with a shrug. "Deserved it."

"Anxiety has ducked out," Janus says.

"Is that bad?" Roman asks. "It can't be that bad, right?"

"Of course it's bad!" Patton exclaims. "Thomas needs him!"

"But does it really?" Roman asks, skeptical. "Listen. Creativity, Morality, Logic. The three of us make up Thomas's personality. Does he really need such a Debbie Downer?"

"Yes," Logan snaps. "Here, Thomas, catch." He tosses a conjured laptop at Thomas. It hits him in the head as he spins around.

"That hurt," Thomas declares happily to the world.

"Slower reflexes," Logan says. "Do you remember if you locked your car, Thomas?"

"No," Thomas says, with a shrug.

"Poor memory," Logan says.

"Anxiety can't be responsible for all that," Roman protests. Logan sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"But he is," Logan says, frustrated. "Anxiety handles more than you credit him with, Roman. We need him. Thomas needs him."

"But why are they here?" Roman demands, pointing at Janus and Remus.

"I don't know how to tell you that you should care about other people," Janus says, deadpan. "Thomas needs some sense of self-preservation, or he's liable to walk off a cliff. Or do you want him to do that?"

"You're being ridiculous," Roman scoffs, shaking his head. "Thomas isn't that bad."

"I don't fear death!" Thomas cheerfully exclaims. Janus glares at Roman.

"Bravery!" Roman says, uncertain. "That's...that's nice."

"That's idiotic," Janus snaps. "You're supposed to be Creativity, surely you can imagine all the terrible ways that can go wrong."

"I believe that's Remus's domain," Roman snips back, his voice strangely brittle.

"Took my pants off!" Thomas announces. Janus recoils, shaking his head.

"Right, we are getting Anxiety back," Logan says. "I truly cannot deal with this any longer."

"So how do we do that?" Patton asks, worrying at his bottom lip and twisting his fingers in front of himself.

"Thomas," Logan addresses him. "First of all, put your pants back on."

"Fine," Thomas says, sulky. His hair sticks up every which way, like the world's worst case of bedhead.

"Now," Logan continues, once Thomas is fully clothed again. "Anxiety lives in the corner of your mind where all your worries and fears reside. You must think of those in order to-"

"Done!" Thomas says, interrupting him.

"Well, I guess there's no sense of dramatic timing today, is there," Logan says, sighing. "Let's go."

Janus reaches out, linking fingers with Remus without thinking. The creative side squeezes his hand tightly as they sink down. Janus closes his eyes, nausea churning in his stomach as the world warps around them.

When he opens his eyes, they're in Anxiety's room.

And Virgil is nowhere to be found.


	6. accepting anxiety

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from royal & the serpent "overwhelmed"
> 
> also yeah, a lot of the dialogue is from the episode lmao

_I get overwhelmed so easily_   
_My anxiety creeps inside of me_   
_Makes it hard to breathe_   
_What's come over me_   
_Feels like I'm somebody else_

It doesn't feel like anything.

Virgil expected ducking out to hurt. He was prepared for it to hurt. Instead, he just feels...numb. Like his whole body has been injected with Novocaine, and there's no chance of it wearing off. He's lying on his bed, but it feels like he's not lying on anything at all. Like he's floating on static.

Then he hears Thomas's voice and somehow, impossibly slowly, he yanks himself out of bed and into the corner of his room that the others can access with Thomas.

"What are you all doing in my room?!" He demands, his legs shaky. He's met with a chorus of screams.

"Anxiety?" Thomas gasps. "Oh my goodness, I am so happy to see you! That's weird."

"You literally all just screamed in unison upon seeing me," Virgil says sourly.

"Sorry, it's just- you do this thing where you- where you just kind of...appear," Logan says. His cheeks are flushed red. As Virgil looks around the room, his gaze stops dead, pinned to two sides he thought he'd never see in his room again.

"Wait, what am I wearing?! What _is_ my hair?" Thomas squawks, looking down at himself.

"Welcome back, Thomas," Roman says, tossing him a hairbrush.

"Thanks, Roman," Thomas says. When he throws the hairbrush back, it hits Roman's arm, and Virgil is hard pressed not to laugh.

"Look, Anxiety, you don't understand," Thomas says earnestly. "For some reason, I wasn't feeling your presence at all."

"Yeah, I know," Virgil says. "It's because I've decided to duck out."

"Quack," Patton says on autopilot, then blushes brilliant red.

"What- duck out?" Thomas asks, his brow crinkled in confusion. Next to Logan, Janus looks deathly pale on the human side of his face.

"Quack, quack," Patton says miserably, unable to stop himself.

"I removed myself from the equation. I quit. Decided it wasn't worth it anymore," Virgil says.

"Why would you do that?" Thomas asks. He sounds genuinely hurt, and for some reason, that makes Virgil's chest squeeze.

"Well, it didn't seem like I was wanted. You all made that pretty clear any time I showed up," Virgil says. Patton starts to make a noise, but Virgil turns to him. "Except you, Patton," he adds. "You're a funny guy."

"I love my dark strange son," Patton says, clasping his hands together.

"Well, surely you knew that we were just preparing ourselves for the worst po-... Okay, uh... Maybe I could rephrase that. Uh, we were just tensing up because we knew that something bad would... Uh... Look, it's just... you're never really fun and-"

"Roman, shut up," Thomas says.

"Look, I am the creative side, not the fluffy, cutesy, kind wordsy side," Roman snaps. "Sooooo..."

"One would think the creative side would be able to come up with a nicer way to talk to others," Logan says coolly.

"You'd think the smart side would know when to mind his own business!"

"Okay, it's real sweet that you all decided to come for a visit, but if I wanted to stand around being insulted, I would have shown up in person like I usually do," Virgil says, scowling.

"You poor, little anxious baby!" Patton exclaims.

"Let's just face the facts," Virgil says. "You're better off without me."

"No!" Janus exclaims in unison with Thomas.

"That's where you're wrong," Thomas continues.

"Very much so," Logan confirms. "I don't think any of us, besides perhaps Janus, comprehended how much you factor into Thomas's decision making. I mean, without you, he was acting like a- I'm just going to come out and say it. A cotton-headed ninnymuggins."

"That is enough out of you, Logic!" Thomas cries. Remus hides a smile behind one hand, bouncing on his heels like he always does. Virgil is surprised by how quiet he's been so far.

"See, he's reining me in right now because of you," Logan points out.

"You _do_ talk too much sometimes," Virgil mumbles. Logan smiles, doing something to Virgil's insides.

"I never thought I'd appreciate you saying that," Logan says.

"We've already learned that Thomas listening to _me_ too much can be a problem," Patton adds. "Same with Roman. Probably even Logan!" Logan laughs shortly.

"Easy," he says.

"Now, while I still have your attention, do you think maybe we could switch places?" Patton asks, eyeing the spider-printed curtains behind him.

"All right," Virgil says, hunching his shoulders. They still feel a bit staticky. "I can't say it isn't nice to hear you all groveling, but... I actually think you were _right_ to not want me around. I've always aimed to protect you, and I've tried, but- It feels like lately, I've been keeping you from doing _anything_."

"If your only goal is to protect, then why do you act like the embodiment of a dark and stormy night all the time?" Roman asks, frowning.

"Roman," Thomas says, warning.

"What?" Roman protests. "He's a creepy cookie! You're a creepy cookie, Anxiety!"

" _Roman_!" Thomas says.

"You're like a-an oatmeal raisin cookie that's primarily composed of raisins. A raisin oatmeal cookie. No one wants that!" _What the fuck do you expect me to do? Stop existing?_

"PUMP THE BRAKES, PRINCEY!" Thomas yells, startling Virgil and Roman.

"I'd eat a raisin oatmeal cookie," Remus says. "I'd eat a whole _package_."

"I'm sorry," Roman says, ignoring his brother.

"You pump those brakes," Thomas repeats.

"I'm sorry, I'm just- I'm feeling a little um, extra passionate here."

"When did you apply eye shadow?" Patton asks in interest. Roman blinks, surprised.

"I didn't. But does it look okay? Because a prince has got to slay."

"Of course it looks good! Why would you think it wouldn't? Do you have self-esteem issues? Am I asking too many questions?!"

"Putting on a dark persona is the best way to get anyone's guard up," Virgil says hurriedly. Now that Patton's mentioned it, he can see eye shadow slowly creeping in on everyone but Thomas, Janus, and Remus. _Not good_. "But all this reflecting and working on your issues with us has gotten me to think that I over do it. A _lot_. I'm not good for you."

"You could never over do it!" Patton cries, passionate. "You are perfect and special just the way you are. I don't care how dark your clothes are. You shine, bright like a diamond!"

"You okay, Patton?" Thomas asks. Patton sniffles.

"I just got a lot of feelings," he mumbles.

"We can see that," Janus murmurs. Roman glares at him, but Virgil sees nothing but concern in his mismatched gaze.

"Hey, Patton! Eye shadow buddies," Roman says, pointing between the two of them.

"We are buddies," Patton says.

"Look, Anxiety, you're a natural fight-or-flight reflex," Logan explains. "That's what you're instilled in humans to act as. And for some people, yes, you're a little heightened, but what's a little extra height, right? I mean, that just means you're tall enough to ride every ride at Disney World. Unless you're too tall and you get decapitated on It's a Small World. Wow. Sorry for that little tangent. I am reeling right now. The point is too much of anything can be counterproductive."

"Well, yeah," Virgil says, shuffling his feet uncomfortably. "But for me-"

"Hold on!" Logan says. "The relationship between anxiety and performance can best be expressed by the Yerkes-Dodson curve. It's named after the psychologists R.M. Yerkes and J.D. Dodson. They actually-"

"Get on with it, calculator watch!" Roman demands. Patton jumps.

"Okay, fine!" Logan says. He looks irritated. "Up here is where you want to be. The optimum degree of constructive tension. Yes! Too much anxiety pushes us to this side of the curve and performance is hindered, which is less than ideal. _but_ without you at all, Thomas is not just on this more relaxed, laid-back side of the graph, which is also not ideal when you're trying to get things done, he's all the way down here."

"By the horn of a unicorn, that was going somewhere!" Roman says in surprise. "I normally would have fallen asleep, but I'm not feeling like my fabulous self right now. I am bitterly jittery and not very glittery."

"But with me, aren't you just always on the other side of that curve?" Virgil asks. "That can't be good for Thomas."

"There are ways that I can work on that, Anxiety, but I'd rather work _with_ you than without you," Thomas says. His eyes are soft and earnest. "I just need to make you feel listened to. It's important for me to recognize the concerns you bring to the table, and change my actions if I need to. And you're important. You're more than I credit you for, and I'm sorry that I haven't been treating you better."

"You are what made Thomas double and triple check things he needed to study before taking tests," Logan says.

"And you're that feeling of tingliness after achieving something he didn't think was possible!" Patton shouts.

"E equals MC scared!" Logan yelps.

"Sorry, was that too loud?" Patton asks. His cheeks are fire engine red. "I didn't mean to, I just wanted to share my thoughts before I forgot them."

"In small doses, you're what gets me out of bed," Thomas continues.

"You're important for Thomas's safety," Janus adds quietly. "You help get him out of bad situations, or prevent him from entering those bad situations in the first place."

"So Thomas doesn't get _murdered_ ," Remus chimes in. His eyes glitter acid green.

"I mean, it's cool to see you all trying to be helpful," Virgil mumbles, trying to ignore the slow bloom of warmth in his chest. "Well, most of you, but-"

Roman steps forward, eye shadow standing out like bruises.

"Anxiety, you're what pushes Thomas to rehearse and rehearse before performances," Roman starts, his voice wobbly. "You are that nervousness that he feels right before going on stage but as he does so, you ease up and you let his excitement and passion for performance take over. I think that's as good a sign as any that you're willing to work as a team and you make us better." He takes a deep breath. "And it would only harm Thomas and the rest of us if you stopped existing. I- I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry for a lot of things, actually."

Virgil's mouth falls open in shock.

"Is that good, did I do good?" Roman asks. The others chime in in a cacophony of voices. Thomas stares at them all in wide-eyed alarm.

"Uh, what's going on?" He asks.

"These guys have all been in this corner of your mind for too long," Virgil says, wincing when his voice starts to double over itself. "It's corrupting them. All their main functions are starting to work to drive you far over to the other end of that curve."

"What?!" Thomas bleats.

"Hang on," Virgil says. "We're going to get them out of here. Breathe in for four seconds. Hold for seven seconds. Now breathe out for eight seconds. Good, keep it up, Thomas."

The others sink out, Janus and Remus remaining at the last.

"Please stay," Janus murmurs, before he snags Remus's hand and sinks out. Virgil does so an instant later, swaying on his feet as he looks at the familiar confines of Thomas's living room.

"Good, we're back!" Thomas exclaims.


	7. good talk, still sad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics from "good for you" in dear evan hansen

_I'll shut my mouth and I'll let you go_   
_Is that good for you?_   
_Would that be good for you, you, you?_   
_I'll just sit back while you run the show_   
_Is that good for you?_

Janus stumbles slightly when he reaches Thomas's living room. Remus, still unnaturally quiet, steadies him, one burning hot hand clenching around Janus's gloved fingers. Virgil is flushed and triumphant, eyes bright as he scans the living room.

"That was...probably a dumb thing to do," Virgil says.

"Yeah, pretty sure if you were here, you wouldn't have let us do that," Thomas says, cheerful. Virgil cocks his head to the side.

"Growing anxious about being more anxious," he muses. "Sounds like me."

"Well, I think it's time we take our leave," Janus murmurs. Virgil reaches a hand in his direction before snatching it away, like he's been burned.

"Wait," Virgil says. His face is pink. "I- I want to open up, but big surprise, I'm anxious." He chews on his bottom lip.

"It's okay," Thomas reassures him. "Take your time."

"Anxious, like your name!" Patton says.

"Speaking of names..." Virgil trails off. Janus's eyes widen. Remus's grip on his hand becomes painfully tight, but Janus doesn't pull away.

"Oh, don't worry," Roman says.

"If you don't want to, it's fine," Logan chimes in.

"It's like a band-aid, right?" Virgil asks. "Just gotta rip it off."

"Exactly so," Janus says, nearly under his breath.

"My name is Virgil," Virgil blurts out.

"Virgil?" Patton echoes. "Huh, that doesn't end with an -O-N or an A-N. Why not Virgan?" Roman snickers.

"What's so funny?" Thomas asks coolly, turning his way. Roman flushes bright red.

"Nothing," he says. "Virgil is a great name." Janus can't help but contrast the reaction to his own name. He's not bitter.

"Virgil is a fantastic name," Thomas says, turning back to the anxious side. "Thank you for telling me... Virgil."

"You uh, you can call me Virge," Virgil says. "If you want to," he adds in a mumble.

"Well, this has all been touching, but we really should go," Janus says. "Virgil-" Virgil's head jerks up. "I'd like to speak with you," he adds softly.

"Okay," Virgil says, surprising him.

"I still don't really know who you are," Thomas says. "But it's been nice to meet you guys, Janus, Remus."

"Likewise," Janus says, tipping his hat in Thomas's direction. He sinks down, falling into the dark side commons. Seconds later, Virgil appears, slump-shouldered and wide-eyed.

"What is it?" Virgil asks warily.

"Is it worth it?" Janus asks as bluntly as he dares. "I don't expect you to come back, especially now that you've been _accepted_ -" He puts particular emphasis on the word, watching red crawl up Virgil's throat. "But surely-" He stops, taking a deep breath. "Were we so repulsive a choice, that you would rather duck out than come hom- come back?"

"No!" Virgil blurts out. "God, no, you- it has nothing to do with you, it was all me, I didn't- you aren't a repulsive choice, I just- I didn't think you wanted me back."

"My mistakes are plentiful," Janus says quietly. "And that one may top the list. You are always, always welcome here."

"Yeah!" Remus says. "I won't even pour acid on your skull. I promise." He grins, and it's all teeth. Janus elbows him.

Tears overflow Virgil's eyes and for one heart-stopping second, Janus is afraid he's said something terribly egregious.

"You mean that?" Virgil whispers. Janus nods.

"Always," he says. "Please. If it gets that bad again- if you think about ducking out again- or anything else- please come here instead."

"I will," Virgil says, scrubbing a hand across his eyes and wincing when his eye shadow smears. "I just- God, I'm sorry. I never should have said what I- what I did."

"Likewise," Janus says. "You are welcome to stay wherever you want. I- I shouldn't have tried to keep you here. I just... I don't trust them."

"Well, until now, neither did I," Virgil admits with a watery laugh. "Hell, I don't know if I trust them now, but- I mean, even Roman..."

"If my bro bothers you, just tell me," Remus pipes up. Suddenly, he's carrying his morningstar, idly swinging it back and forth. "I'll take care of him." Janus sighs.

"Remus, what have I told you about weapons in the living room?" Janus asks. Remus innocently whistles as the morningstar disappears.

"Weapon?" He asks, a cherubic smile on his face. "What weapon?" Virgil muffles a snicker behind one hand as Janus sighs, massaging his temples with one gloved hand.

"You see what I put up with?" He asks a snorting Virgil.

"I see it's hilarious," Virgil answers. He glances upward, reluctant. "I uh, I should probably go."

"Best not to keep the others waiting, I suppose," Janus says, trying and failing to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

"Seriously, thank you, Janus," Virgil says, darting forward and bestowing a bird-like hug on him, hands fluttering like wings around his shoulders. "You- you showed yourself to Thomas for me. Thank you."

"All in a day's work, I suppose," Janus says, wishing he had his cane to twirl.

"And you told them your name," Virgil adds, eyes wide.

"I didn't think Thomas would trust me otherwise," Janus admits. "I- could wish the others did not know, though. Particularly Roman, after he decided to compare me to a middle school librarian."

"Did he apologize?"

Janus shakes his head.

"I didn't expect one," he says truthfully. "I'm just glad he didn't give your name similar treatment."

"He shouldn't have laughed at your name," Virgil says, a frown crossing his face. "And not apologized. That's not cool."

"I did compare him to Remus, so," Janus says, with only faint regret.

"Janus!" Virgil scolds. Janus can see the smile threatening to break free. "You shouldn't."

  
"He started it," Janus says. "I finished it."

"Well..." Virgil trails off. "I guess I can't argue with that," he admits.

"No, you can't," Janus says smugly. "If you don't leave, however, I fear they'll send a search party. And if Patton's involved, you know he'll find a spiderweb and freak out."

"Yeahhh, he didn't like my room, huh," Virgil says. "I guess you're right. But um-" He bites his lip. "Can I see you later? Is- is that okay?"

"Of course it is, Virgil," Janus says. "I told you. Our door is always open to you." Virgil smiles, a quick flash of teeth.

"Thank you," he says, and runs lithely up the steps. Janus watches him go, a melancholy look on his face.

"All alone," Remus singsongs. How Janus wishes that wasn't true.


	8. movie night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from bohnes "middle finger"
> 
> also i feel like i should mention! this story is super, super unedited lmao, like even more than usual, and i can't promise it all makes sense :p it's like a slice of life, hitting a few plot points along the way lmao.
> 
> i might edit it after i'm done with nano, or rewrite it? i'm not sure which would work the best, but yeah.

_You put an eagle inside of a cage_   
_And you think I'm not strong enough to escape_   
_But I refuse to let you make me feel like I can't fly_   
_Not only will I soar again, I'll own the fucking sky_

Patton accosts Virgil as soon as he steps foot in the living room, arms winding around Virgil's waist and sweeping him into one of the best hugs he's ever experienced, soft and warm and faintly redolent of sugar cookies.

"Oops, sorry!" Patton says, stepping back. His face is red. "I should have asked, Virgil, I'm sorry." Virgil immediately misses the warmth of Patton's arms around him.

"It's fine, Patton," he says, trying a tentative smile. He looks around. Logan and Roman are both on the couch, looking in his direction. He flushes, uncomfortable with all the attention.

"So your name is Virgil," Roman states. Virgil nods. "It's not like everyone else's name," Roman says. "Not like ours... not like the dark sides-"

"Others," Virgil corrects automatically. Roman looks like he wants to say something about it, then subsides.

"The others," Roman concedes. "Where does it come from?"

"I dunno," Virgil says, shrugging and slouching deeper into his hoodie. "It just- it's just my name, that's all."

"Interesting," Logan says, giving Virgil an encouraging smile. "I like it, Virgil. It reminds me of the poet."

"Yeah," Virgil mumbles. "I uh, I think I'll go to my room now?"

"Stay," Patton encourages. "We were just going to watch a movie and thought you could pick one out!"

"Me?" Virgil squeaks in surprise. He has never picked a movie, not the whole time that he's lived up here. Hell, he's only gone to one movie night, and that was because Patton insisted. It was awkward as hell and he'd nearly come to blows with Roman over a bowl of popcorn. Not one of his finest moments.

"Yes, you, silly," Patton says, booping his nose and making him go cross-eyed in surprise. "Why don't you pick something out? It can be anything you like!"

"Uh, Black Cauldron?" Virgil offers, near-silently.

"Black Cauldron it is!" Patton says.

"That one doesn't have any singing," Roman complains.

"Sounds perfect to me then," Virgil shoots back on autopilot. Roman scowls, then bounces up from the couch, dashing into the kitchen.

"I'll make popcorn!" Roman calls over his shoulder.

"Why don't you sit down?" Patton asks, giving Virgil a gentle push toward the couch. He hesitantly sits down next to Logan.

"Is uh, is this okay?" He asks.

"Of course," Logan says, with another of those soft smiles. "Feel free to sit wherever you like, Virgil."

"Except Logan's lap," Patton says, giggling. "That's my job." _Wait, what?_ Virgil thinks, forehead scrunched in confusion.

"Uh..." Virgil flushes brick red. "I uh, it's all yours, Pat."

Patton sits down in Logan's lap with a thump, giggling as Logan's arms come around him, anchoring him in place. Virgil desperately wishes he was anywhere but here, his face hot, as Roman comes back in, balancing two massive bowls of popcorn.

"Oh, you two," Roman says playfully as he sets down the popcorn on the coffee table. "You're gonna give Virgil a complex."

"Er, why?" Virgil asks, desperately trying to pretend that his face isn't on fire. "It's uh, it's fine."

"Since it's come up," Logan begins casually. "I'm aware that we haven't exactly paraded it around, but you should know that the three of us are in a romantic relationship."

"Oh, okay," Virgil says. He feels oddly disappointed and doesn't know why. It's not like it matters. Even if he did like the others that way (which he doesn't!), it's not like they would like him back. He's Anxiety, for fuck's sake. He's miserable and cold all the time and a total Debbie Downer, as Roman would say. No one would like him.

_Janus and Remus like you,_ his mind argues. He internally scowls.

_Not that way, they don't_ , he snaps back. _That's different._

But he now feels like maybe he shouldn't have let Patton hug him. That's- Patton liked to hug, it wasn't exactly his first hug by the moral side, but the others had always been super brief touches, and usually presided over by a frowning Roman. If they were all together, maybe that's why Roman had disapproved before, not solely because he was, well, Anxiety.

_Don't hug_ , he scolds himself, bringing his knees up on the sofa and wrapping his arms around them as the movie begins to play. It's hard to pay attention to it, even though he's the one who chose it in the first place. He feels bad about that now. Obviously the other three wanted some kind of date night and here he is, being a third- fourth?- wheel. He should have begged off and ignored Patton's pleading eyes, but instead he'd taken it at face value and now he was stuck. He swallows. His throat is dry, but he doesn't dare get up for a glass of water. Doesn't dare do anything but stare blankly at the screen. Roman's sat on the other side of Logan, his arm wrapped tight around Logan's shoulders. It's not like he wants that for himself, but the fact that it's happening next to him makes him feel all the more alone.

_Idiot_ , he berates himself. _This is what you wanted, isn't it? You wanted to be accepted. You wanted to be included. You wanted to feel like you weren't a burden for existing. See where that got you? A big, fat nowhere. You never should have left the others, let's be real here. You're lucky Janus and Remus ever tolerated you._

If it wasn't for the fact he knows Janus better than he knows himself sometimes, he would be able to convince himself that Janus's offer was a pity invite. But he knows better. Janus wouldn't have invited him for pity. It's not pity that motivates the deceitful side. He isn't sure what it is, but it's not that. Janus meant it. If Virgil felt like ducking out again, he was supposed to come home.

He doesn't know how he feels about that, that it feels like 'coming home' when that was supposed to be up here at some point. _The others don't need you,_ his mind points out. _The others don't even have to like you. You ducking out affects Thomas, ergo they want you to be here. But don't try to mistake it for actual enjoying your company. Today was a fluke. You can enjoy it while it lasts, but remember. No one here actually cares about you, except maybe Patton, and that's because it's his nature to care about everyone. Shit, he probably cares about Remus. That's all this is._

He smiles in all the right spots, but it's kind of a quiet relief when the credits finally begin to play. Glancing beside him, he's amused. Patton and Logan are both sound asleep. Roman catches his eye, smiling ruefully.

"I'll just go," he whispers to Roman, standing up and trying to ignore the pins and needles sensation tingling through both his legs. Roman frowns.

"You can uh, you can stay if you want," Roman says, but Virgil knows how he really feels. He doesn't want Virgil to stay. That's probably the least of his wants right about now. Virgil shakes his head, but tacks on a hasty smile.

"I'm uh, I'll just go to bed actually," he says. "Good night." And he flees without trying to make it look that way, walking with slow, deliberate steps up the stairs. As soon as he's out of sight, though, he makes a run for it, dashing to his door and slipping through. He locks it with shaky fingers.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ VIrgil berates himself, flinging himself on the bed and rummaging around for his headphones. He has a feeling another sleepless night is in the cards for him.

  
Not that he deserves anything less.


	9. midnight realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from or3o "help me"

_Don't be afraid_   
_We're the ones who'll help you find the way_   
_So much to say_   
_But don't be here to stay_

Patton wakes up slowly, then all at once. A sleepy smile crosses his lips that fades away when he glances to the right and discovers that Virgil's gone. Beneath him, he can hear Logan's steady, quiet breath.

"Virgil went to bed," Roman says quietly. When Patton flicks his eyes forward, he sees that Roman's put on Frozen.

"He must have been tired," Patton comments.

"Yeah," Roman says. He's silent for a second. Then- "I'm not sure he's actually going to sleep, though."

"Why do you say that?" Patton asks.

"Just a feeling," Roman says. "I- I don't think he's going to try to duck out again, though." Patton blows a gusty breath of relief through his teeth.

"Good," he says. "I don't- that was awful." He shivers, causing Logan's arms to automatically tighten around him.

"I didn't even know one could duck out," Roman mutters. He sounds shell-shocked. "I never- I never thought-"

"What?" Patton asks.

"That he had feelings?" Roman offers. He sounds guilty. "I mean, I knew he did, but I thought- I thought our feelings were mutual. Mutually antagonistic. But I- I really hurt him, I think. Not saying anything when he asked if he shouldn't exist. And I should have said something. I don't know why I didn't."

"I don't know, either," Patton says. He feels deeply disappointed in the other side. He knows that Anxiety- Virgil- hasn't been the easiest to get along with, and probably by design. But both he and Logan had had moments of camaraderie with him. The fact Roman never had had always gotten a little on his nerves.

"Why did you go and talk to him anyway?" Patton asks, tracing idle little patterns on Logan's arm.

"He was making Thomas anxious," Roman says. "And I- well, I got angry." Patton stiffens.

"Roman," he says slowly. "You know that Virgil gets anxiety, right?"

"What?" Roman asks. He sounds surprised. Patton doesn't quite understand why.

"Virgil gets anxiety," Patton repeats. "He isn't just Anxiety, he experiences it."  
"Are- are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Patton says. "I'm at the core of a lot of Thomas's feelings, remember? I can tell."

"Oh god," Roman says. He sounds sick. "I didn't- I never realized- So he was already anxious when I confronted him and-"

"Yeah," Patton whispers. "He must have been, if it was affecting Thomas."

"I'm a horrible side," Roman says.

"No, you aren't," Patton says, reaching out and squeezing Roman's hand. "You aren't horrible, Roman. You're just...flawed. Like we all are. There's nothing wrong with that."

"Of course there is," Roman says, disgusted with himself. "God, Pat, I kicked him when he was down and he must have been struggling- you didn't hear him, he sounded awful, and yet I still- I didn't say anything. I should have said something." He repeats it, his voice shaking. "I should have said something."

"You two can talk about the what if's and should have's all night, but it isn't going to change the past," Logan says, surprising both of them. His voice is gravelly from sleep. "You can't change the past, Roman. All you can do is focus on the present and plan for the future."

"I have to make it up to him," Roman croaks. "I just- I don't know how."

"We'll help with that," Patton promises. "You aren't alone in this, Ro. Remember?"

"And Deceit- _Janus_ \- God, I can't believe he told Thomas his name," Roman says. "And Remus- but Remus hardly said anything-"

"I think Remus was there for moral support," Patton admits. "They care a great deal about Virgil, I think."

"Do they?" Roman asks in surprise. Patton nods.

"I can tell that, too," he says. "They care about him. They wouldn't have come up here if they didn't."

"They came yesterday morning," Logan reveals. "I found them in the hallway. Outside Anx- Virgil's room. They knew he'd ducked out. Well, Janus knew."

"He's self preservation at the heart of it, I'm not surprised," Patton says with a sigh. "He must have known the effect it would have on Thomas, if Virgil wasn't here."

"Yeah," Roman says. When Patton looks his way, he can see Roman drumming his fingers on his leg. "I shouldn't have laughed at his name," Roman blurts out. "He shared it in confidence- he was vulnerable- and I _laughed_ at him, Pat."

"It wasn't good to laugh at him," Patton admits. "Do you know why you did?"

"It wasn't even him," Roman mutters. "It wasn't him, it was my brother. My brother, just _standing_ there, in front of Thomas, and I just- I panicked. Because what if Thomas prefers Remus over me? What if-"

"I can't see that happening," Logan says.

"But it _could_ , that's the point," Roman insists. "And after the way I behaved, he-" He takes a great, shuddering breath. "He would have every right to prefer Remus over me."

"He needs you _both_ ," Logan says. "Remus represents pure, unbridled Imagination, but Thomas needs _you_ , as well. You're like- like the filter he needs, creativity in a way that he can _use_. Not to mention, creativity isn't the _only_ thing you're here for."

"I make a pretty shitty ego, too," Roman says, heaving a sigh.

"No, you don't," Patton says firmly. "You're a wonderful ego. You just mess up sometimes, Roman. We all do. That doesn't make you bad."

"I feel like I sent someone to slit their wrists," Roman says unhappily. "I should have said something, he just startled me. And I shouldn't have laughed at Janus. No wonder he compared me to my brother."

"Right, that's enough of that," Patton says, leaning over and giving Roman a light kiss on the cheek. "Why don't we go to bed, Ro? Real bed. And in the morning, we'll invite Virgil to breakfast. Heck, we can invite Janus and Remus, too! What could go wrong?"

"I mean, I can think of several things," Roman mutters, mostly under his breath. "I mean- Sure, Pat. Why not?"

"It's a deal," Logan says.


	10. a not so together breakfast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lyrics are from hey violet "o.d.d."

_Some days I wake up_   
_I just wanna hide under the covers_   
_'Cause no matter what I do_   
_I'll never be like all the others_

Virgil groans as someone knocks on his door, jarring him from a fitful sleep. He isn't sure when he dozed off, but he knows it can't have been that long ago, because he can still hear music coming from his headphones. It sounds tinny and distorted and he fumbles for his phone, shutting it off with one hand. His ears roar with static for one heartstopping moment, making him blanch.

The knock continues, light yet persistent. He drags himself out of bed, padding to the door and easing it open. A beaming Patton stands on the other side, playing with the paw sleeves of his cardigan.

"Good morning, Virgil!" Patton chirps. He looks like he's had ten hours of sleep. "I thought I'd invite you down to breakfast! I'm making pancakes. How's that sound?"

"Uh, okay," Virgil says, trying to wrap his mind around what Patton just said. He doesn't sound like it's some kind of trick. Then again, he's not sure he can see even Roman trying to play a trick on him this morning. Not when him ducking out is so fresh on everyone's minds.

"Also," Patton continues. "I thought I'd invite Janus and Remus, too. Does that sound okay?" He looks genuinely worried, and Virgil nearly laughs at the puppy dog expression Patton's giving him.

  
"It sounds fine, Pat," he answers. "I dunno that they'll take you up on it, though." Truthfully, he can't see Janus or Remus deciding they _want_ to eat pancakes with Patton, Roman, and Logan, of all people. Then again, he kind of hopes they do take him up on it. Then he won't feel so left out.

_Are you forgetting those two are together, too?_ His mind pipes up, sounding fresh as a daisy, despite the early hour. _You'll be extra doubly the fourth wheel, you idiot._

_Tough luck,_ he thinks. He wants to see the others. Janus and Remus have never made him feel unwanted or unwelcome. He can't honestly say that Patton and the others have yet, either, but he's sure it's brewing on the horizon. Oh, they won't mean to. He doesn't think Patton has a mean bone in his body, and Logan was surprisingly helpful yesterday, when they all traipsed off to his room. But still. He's in the way, and he knows it.

"Be down soon," he says out loud, and closes the door. He needs to change into something cleaner. His current outfit is still crumpled and dirty because who would have thought it, ducking out is a surprisingly messy process. He also fixes his eye shadow, cleaning away the old with a makeup wipe first and wincing at how deeply his dark circles have stamped themselves under his eyes.

"You practically don't need makeup," he says aloud, frowning at his reflection. He puts it on anyway. He doesn't know what else to do.

When he finally creeps out the door, having stuffed his feet into his sneakers, he can hear voices coming from downstairs.

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Roman's voice, booming above the rest. "I mean, Virgil is one thing, but the others-"

"They said they were coming," Patton interrupts. "Therefore, they're coming. I don't think Janus would lie about that."

"How would you know?" Roman sputters. "He's literally the personification of Deceit! All he does is lie!"

"You and I both know that's not true," Logan speaks up. "He can and has spoken the truth on multiple occasions, particularly yesterday."

"That- that's different," Roman stammers.

"Why?" Logan asks. His voice is cool, surprisingly so. "Because it doesn't fit in with your preconceived notion that, and I quote, 'all he does is lie?' I assure you, he has spoken the truth on more occasions than Virgil ducking out. In fact, I'd wager he speaks the truth more often than he tells lies. It's just that he knows nobody will believe him."

"Eavesdropping, Virgey?" Remus hisses in his ear, making him jump and nearly fall down the rest of the stairs. Amused, Remus catches his wrist before he can do so, grinning in his face. Janus stands beside him, a faint look of amusement also playing on his face. Virgil slumps in Remus's grasp, face burning in humiliation. Great.

"Shall we?" Janus asks, leaning over and murmuring it directly into Virgil's ear. "I simply love the way a room falls silent when they've been talking about you and don't want you to know it."

Sure enough, the room falls guilty silent when Virgil slouches in, shortly followed by Janus and Remus.

"How delightful," Janus says smoothly. "It is an honor for you to invite us." Roman's forehead scrunches, like he's not sure whether or not that's an insult. Patton, on the other hand, just smiles and waves them in, pointing to the extra chairs at the table.

"Sit down, sit down!" Patton says, fluttering around them like a particularly social butterfly. Virgil sits down next to Logan, leaving Janus to sit next to him and Remus to sit across the table, next to his brother.

"Hey, bro!" Remus says exuberantly. "Long time, no see. Oh wait, we saw each other yesterday! Took a while, huh? Who knew it takes someone ducking out for us to get in the same room?"

"Remus," Janus says in a warning tone. Remus's face goes delicately pink.

"Sorry not sorry," Remus mumbles. Janus inclines his head in Virgil's direction, and Virgil feels his own face heat up. He doesn't want to be treated with kid gloves or something, he just-

Well, he wishes he'd never done it and at the same time, he's glad he did. If he hadn't, he would be in his room right now, sound asleep or wishing that he was, listening to the others conduct their cozy little domestic scene without him. He would assume that Janus and Remus couldn't stand him anymore. Thomas would hate him. This was-

Well, this was probably the best possible outcome that could have happened, and Virgil can't regret that, no matter how much he thinks that he's supposed to.

"So who wants pancakes?" Patton asks cheerfully, breaking the silence that's so swiftly befallen them.

"Uh, I do?" Virgil asks, cringing at how stupid he sounds. He's never had a pancake before in his life. Cereal bars were more his scene. They were fast and easy and didn't require cooking (a necessity when you lived with Remus).

"Of course!" Patton exclaims, seemingly unbothered by the awkwardness. He slides a plate in front of Virgil. Three chocolate chip pancakes stare up at him. Literally, as Patton has drawn a smiley face in whipped cream. "Enjoy!"

"Can mine be deodorant flavored?" Remus asks. Patton scrunches his nose.

"No, they cannot," Janus answers for him. "We're eating with regular people, you get regular people food." Remus rolls his eyes.

" _Boring_ ," he complains, elongating each syllable.

"Boring or not, you aren't getting deodorant pancakes," Janus retorts. He sounds slightly irritable.

"Maybe next time," Patton says, diplomatic to the end.

"Why are you even here?" Roman complains under his breath. His brother leans extra close to him, smacking their shoulders together and ignoring Roman's little shudder of disgust.

"Because you hate it so much, brother," Remus informs him, the cheeriness in his voice just a shade too bright. When he smiles, Virgil can see that all his teeth are pointed. "I live to piss you off."

"Well, you're doing a bang up job," Roman says. Remus just grins harder.

"Can't you two behave?" Logan asks, with a put-upon sigh as he drinks his coffee and turns another page in the book he's reading.

"No," the twins say in unison. Then Roman scowls in Remus's direction.

"I can," Roman insists. "But I doubt that he can."

"Why?" Remus asks, tilting his head over to one side so far, Virgil hears a crack. "Is there something wrong with me, Ro Ro? Is that what you're insinuating?

"Look at you, knowing big words," Janus murmurs. It should sound sarcastic and yet somehow, it doesn't.

"Yes, something's wrong with you!" Roman explodes. "You're- you're gross and you have the yuckiest ideas and you- you scare Thomas!"

"Funny," Remus muses. "He didn't seem very scared of me last night. He didn't seem scared at _all_."

"Well, he had no anxiety, so," Roman retorts.

"No, no, even after that," Remus says. "Didn't look scared to me! Try again, bro. And what's so wrong with yucky ideas, huh? Horror is pretty yucky and yet there's a billion dollar industry in it. Probably multibillion dollar. So."

"Your ideas are just- just potty humor," Roman sputters.

"There's a pretty big industry in that, too," Remus says. "Do I scare you? Is that it? No need to involve Thomas at all, huh?"

"Pancakes!" Patton yelps, setting two plates of pancakes down with a little more force than strictly necessary. Remus stares down at the whipped cream face on the top with a brooding expression.

"Sorry," Roman mumbles. It sounds insincere, even to Virgil's ears. "I didn't- I don't want to fight. I'm sorry."

"Apology not-" Remus begins, before Janus glances at him. He frowns. "Apology accepted, I guess."

In silence, Patton finishes up the last few plates of pancakes, sitting down to his own with a happy smile.

"So, uh, what are we all planning to do today?" Patton asks. Virgil forks up a mouthful of pancake, praying someone else will answer.

"Working on Thomas's schedule," Logan says.

"A quest in the Imagination," Roman says. "I might not be back for lunch."

"Uh, just hanging out in my room, I guess," Virgil mumbles, having swallowed his bite of pancake.

"Conniving, plotting, the usual," Janus says smoothly. Virgil gives him a side eye. Janus just smirks.

"Seeing if dead bodies float in slime!" Remus says, enthusiastic. Patton pales a little mid-chew.

"How interesting," Patton says, recovering.

Virgil just wants to thump his head on the table.


End file.
